Uncle Wiggily in the Woods eBook

So if the pussy cat doesn’t take the lollypop
stick to make a mud pie, and not give any ice cream
cones to the rag doll, I’ll tell you next about
Uncle Wiggily and Lulu’s hat.

STORY XI

UNCLE WIGGILY AND LULU’S HAT

“Uncle Wiggily, do you want to do something
for me?” asked Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat
lady housekeeper, of the rabbit gentleman one day
as he started out from his hollow stump bungalow to
take a walk in the woods.

“Just take this piece of pie over to Mrs. Wibblewobble,
the duck lady,” went on Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy.
“I promised to let her taste how I made apple
pie out of cabbage leaves.”

“And very cleverly you do it, too,” said
Uncle Wiggily, with a polite bow. “I know,
for I have eaten some myself. I will gladly take
this pie to Mrs. Wibblewobble,” and off through
the woods Uncle Wiggily started with it.

He soon reached the duck lady’s house, and Mrs.
Wibblewobble was very glad indeed to get the piece
of Nurse Jane’s pie.

“I’ll save a bit for Lulu and Alice, my
two little duck girls,” said Mrs. Wibblewobble.

“Why, aren’t they home?” asked Uncle
Wiggily.

“No, Lulu has gone over to a little afternoon
party which Nannie
Wagtail, the goat girl, is having, and Alice has gone
to see
Grandfather Goosey Gander. Jiminie is off playing
ball with Jackie and
Peetie Bow Wow, the puppy dog boys, so I am home alone.”

“I hope you are not lonesome,” said Uncle
Wiggily.

“Oh, no, thank you,” answered the duck
lady. “I have too much to do. Thank
Nurse Jane for her pie.”

“I shall,” Uncle Wiggily promised, as
he started off through the woods again. He had
not gone far before, all of a sudden, he did not stoop
low enough as he was hopping under a tree and, the
first thing he knew, his tall silk hat was knocked
off his head and into a puddle of water.

“Oh, dear!” cried Uncle Wiggily, as he
picked up his hat. “I shall never be able
to wear it again until it is cleaned and ironed.
And how I can have that done out here in the woods
is more than I know.”

“Ah, but I know,” said a voice in a tree
overhead.

“Who are you, and what do you know?” asked
the bunny uncle, surprised like and hopeful.

“I know where you can have your silk hat cleaned
and ironed smooth,” said the voice. “I
am the tailor bird, and I do those things. Let
me have your hat, Uncle Wiggily, and I’ll fix
it for you.”

Down flew the kind bird, and Uncle Wiggily gave him
the hat.

“But what shall I wear while I’m waiting?”
asked the bunny uncle. “It is too soon
for me to be going about without my hat. I’ll
need something on my head while you are fixing my
silk stovepipe, dear Tailor Bird.”